A Ghostly Overlord
by PhantomGoat13
Summary: The Team faces a new enemy, one who doesn't play by the normal villain rules. How will this affect their missions against him or her? And will they be able to adapt to and defeat the mystery that is Miasma? Chapter prompts are taken from the Evil Overlord list with the permission of the author of the list. The Evil Overlord List is Copyright 1996-1997 by Peter Anspach.
1. Chapter 1 Curtain Rising

Heya Peeps, so I am dedicating this story and those that follow in this set to my Mom. She has been a major help in researching for these stories and beta reading and so much more! The idea for this series has been stuck in my head for a few months and in the works for a month or so. So yeah, please tell me what you think, constructive criticism, comments, and ideas are welcomed with open arms! I may not use the ideas, but I can use all the help I can get when coming up with story ideas! Flames will be deleted and sentenced to the dark void that is my trash can!

Just letting anyone who is reading this story know up front that I do have a life outside of fanfiction and while I would love to write a drabble or more a week that is currently out of the realm of possibility for me. So this story will probably be updated at random with no schedule in mind and may go untouched for a while at a time, but I do plan to keep it going !

So without further ado I give to you my first drabble in the Ghostly Overlord series, Curtain Rising!

MIASMAMIASMAMIASMAMIASMAMIASMAMIASMAMIASMAMIASMA

Evil Overlord Rule #2

It was just one of those run of the mill missions when suddenly the unthinkable happened, Artemis got stuck. Not only was the little known villain Batman had sent the Team after smart enough to make the vents smaller, but they also had installed tazer panels in the duct that had triggered when she pressed them. She didn't even have a chance to warn the rest of the Team before everything went dark.

From there it all went downhill fast. Mines that when they exploded released a thick adhesive that Kid Flash was unable to break free from. Once he was restrained a concentrated knockout gas was released, it was specially designed to affect speedsters, and had been known to keep them down for as much as 3 hours. Needless to say Kid Flash didn't stand a chance.

With Superboy the villain was even original enough to forgo the usual kryptonite route. They had used red sun radiation and once he was weakened high power sonic devices were implemented to overload his senses, thus rendering him unconscious.

For Miss Martian and Aqualad only one trap was needed, but still a trap for two powered teens. The pair found themselves in a room that had inhibitor technology synced to their powers built into it as well as flame throwers along the walls. The end result was the same as Superboy, out like a light.

During this time Robin was trying to work his way through the much smaller than average air vents. After failing to meet up with Artemis at their designated check point he had started to get concerned, especially when none of the Team answered over the link. Suddenly without warning the section of vent he was in broke free, leaving him hampered by the smaller than usual section as it fell. Thinking quickly he shot his grappling hook out and feeling it catch he hit the button to retract the line, pulling himself free before the length of duct work hit the ground. With a quick roll he was on his feet, alert and ready for whatever was coming.

Silence was all that greeted him, the air around him was thick with suspense. Slipping into the shadows with an ease that put any predator to shame, he made his way down the long dark hallway. As he went, he ran over what they knew about their current mission. The target was a little known thief that had slowly been upping his game until he caught the eye of the big bat when he stole from a small lab in a town located in upstate Virginia. In this heist the perpetrator, only known as Miasma, made off with a semi-rare biological sample. The cameras were found to have been set on a loop at the time of the heist, there were no traces left behind, except for a slip of paper with one word. It was on common copy paper that was available at any store, formed from letter clippings from random magazines and glued with Elmer's glue. The word was Miasma. In essence, there was incredibly little that they had to go on.

At this point Robin was pulled away from his thoughts by the appearance of a door at the end of the corridor. With quieted breath and light steps he proceeded down the hall, silently pulling a batarang as he went. He paused at the door, listening for anything that might give him a clue as to what lay ahead. When there was no sign of life from inside he slowly eased the door open, body tense and poised for action. The room was empty, the floor swept clean. There was nothing in sight except for the slip of paper lying in the middle of the floor. The three words on it were visible from the door, "Well Done, Miasma." Miasma was nowhere to be seen! There was no knowing when he had last been at this warehouse and had set the traps for the Team; this op had been researched and planned for months! Just finding the hideout had taken a whole month's worth of late nights at the Batcomputer with minimal bathroom breaks! The last reconnaissance mission had shown there was activity in the building, but that was the extent of their onsite investigation so as not to alert their target. Batman would not be happy with Miasma's escape, but there was still the possibility of evidence being left behind. If so, the Team might still have a shot at taking down their elusive foe! But first, he better find out what became of the rest of the Team.

For the next hour, Robin was kept busy finding and releasing the rest of the Team from their respective traps. The hardest to rouse was Kid Flash, who was still off balance from the gas Miasma used. This was made obvious by the numerous walls he ran into on their way out of the warehouse. Artemis was currently making plans to get her hands on the surveillance footage, her reason being you can never have too much blackmail material. Robin who would normally have been all for this plan was currently discussing the situation with Aqualad. The villain, Miasma, turned out to be a more dangerous foe than even Batman had guessed. Not only had he escaped them, but he had also used their weaknesses against them with such calculation and foresight that he was able to disable the Team with little difficulty. It was decided to return to Mount Justice and report to Batman about the mission and what they had learned about their newest villain. As they turned away from the warehouse none of them saw a pair of brown eyes watching from the shadows and the brief moment when the eyes flashed a brilliant green before disappearing.


	2. Chapter 2 A Fool's Gold

**I would like to say that I had so much fun writing this particular story and I hope that anyone who reads this enjoys it as well! It is based off of Evil Overlord rule # 29, taken from the original list by Peter Anspach.**

 **Now for the serious stuff. I forgot this last chapter, but here it is. The Evil Overlord List is Copyright 1996-1997 by Peter Anspach. AKA, I own nothing except Miasma my OC! All credit goes to their owners; Danny Phantom belongs to Butch Hartman and Young Justice to DC. Also I am not an expert when it comes to metallurgy or law enforcement protocol. Much of the info I used was due to research and the repeated use of Mr. Google.**

 **Story 2 - A Fool's Gold**

The stormy skies were just beginning to clear over the small town of Kleinsville, California and the Team was just arriving. They had received an alert that Miasma might be targeting the museum on the outskirts of town due to the recent arrival of an exceptionally large gold nugget originally found in the town during the Gold Rush. It was currently in town for the town's 150th anniversary celebration of its discovery. The nugget itself weighed in 10.2 lbs. and was one of the purest in existence. Its value was estimated at $500,000. The Team was here to safeguard the nugget during the four days that it was here for the celebration and, if the opportunity presented itself, capture Miasma. Since their first encounter with the elusive thief there had been little activity on Miasma's part which left the question of why was he moving for this particular job. Other than the usual obsession villains seem to have for shiny, expensive objects that is.

Later that day just before the start of the celebration the Team was set and ready for the unveiling of the Nugget. All entrances and exits had been scouted out and security had been tightened. The Nugget would be showcased on the main platform at the celebration for a short time and then secured backstage. Then afterwards there would be a private showing of the Nugget and other artifacts for the more influential guests and potential investors in the town. Every person entering the private showing of the Nugget after the big celebration would be screened and would have a background check beforehand. As an added precaution the Nugget and its case would be carefully examined after each move to and from the storeroom that was prepared for storing the Nugget to detect tampering. They were confidant that there was no way that Miasma was getting his hands on the Gold Nugget, but as always overconfidence is the first step to failure.

They had made it through the entire celebration without a sign of trouble. The move of the Nugget backstage was supervised by Superboy and Artemis dressed as security guards. They stayed with it during the private showing while Aqualad was verifying the guests' identities. Robin was on tech support while keeping an eye out for anything suspicious. Kid Flash and Miss Martian were acting as backup just in case Miasma showed.

There were mutual snickers throughout the mindlink at the appearance of one of the guests. His yellow and purple plaid jacket clashed amazingly well with his fuchsia pants and his baby blue bow tie. The ridiculousness was driven further by the Gold Nugget merchandise he had on. The hat was a propeller beanie, but it was made worse by the " Kleinsville Nugget turns 150!" with a birthday cake stitched on it. He wandered around looking at the various attractions with a entranced look. He joined the crowd to look at the Nugget where it sat on the main stage and left with the rest. The flip phone in his hand was constantly taking pictures. His enthusiasm was evident to anyone in a twenty foot radius. He chattered almost constantly to nobody in particular, the stream of facts concerning the Kleinsville Nugget and the time period during which it was found. As Kid Flash aptly put it the first time he laid eyes on him, "its hard not to see him!" After the guy moved on to another area of the celebration, they quickly forgot about him except to maybe compare horrible fashion choices.

The private viewing went smoothly, though there was one incident. A man claiming to be on the guest list attempted to gain entrance, but he was quickly calmed down and left. After that they were able to move the Nugget backstage into the storeroom where it was safe under their guard. The next morning it would be shipped back to the private collector who owned it and where it would no longer be their responsibility.

The next morning showed the Team opening the doors to the storeroom that was used for storing the Nugget overnight. There had been no activity during the night and the white armored SUV had arrived to carry the Nugget back to the private collector that owned it, a Mr. Z. The same three guards were transporting it both ways, one driving and two sitting in the back with the Nugget. They had hoped to not draw attention by using the less conspicuous vehicle instead of the commercial armored transport that would normally be used in these circumstances. Less than twenty minutes later the SUV and its cargo were on its way. After stopping at the prearranged restroom stops along the route they finally arrived at the Mr. Z's Mansion. Artemis had ridden up separately to supervise the moving of the Nugget into the Mr. Z's vault. She was currently acting as the liaison between the museum and Mr. Z and safeguarding the Nugget while it was off the Mr. Z's property. The SUV pulled up to the servants' entrance at the back side of the mansion where Artemis was waiting beside her motorcycle. The moment they stopped, Artemis gave a nod to the driver. He quickly left the SUV upon receiving the all clear and walked to the left back door followed by the guard from the right back door. The door was opened and the third guard stepped out, the steel lockbox chained to his wrist by a short chain. The entire device was pulsing faintly with a red glow and seemed quite heavy. The small group swiftly made their way inside and down the hallway towards the vault.

After walking down three flights of stairs and roaming through at least seven different hallways, they finally arrived at a large metal door. Mr. Z stood next to the door, the look on his face suggested boredom and maybe a hint of impatience. With a huff he turned and stepped in front of the biometric reader. He laid his palm onto the glass plate and a blue light turned on scanning his entire body. After a few seconds a voice said "Identity Confirmed, you may enter." The door seal broke and the two guards not carrying the nugget pulled the door open. The guard with the nugget and Mr. Z made their way into the vault toward a display case on the far side that stood empty. Mr. Z pulled a small red key on a chain from around is neck and opened the lockbox. The guard carefully lifted the Nugget out and placed it in the open display case.

Once the case was closed, a clicking and soft grinding noise was heard as it locked securely. They immediately left the vault and made their way back to the upper levels of the mansion. Artemis let out a sigh of relief upon exiting the building. As she mounted her motorcycle to begin her journey back to Mount Justice, she thought "We may not have caught Miasma, but at least he didn't get his hands on the Nugget."

Two Months later

Mr. Z stood in his living room, hands in the air as the black garbed man in front of him pointed the Glock in his hand towards him. "Where's the Nugget? That's all I want, give it to me now!"

Mr. Z's voice trembled as he spoke "yeah, sure, you can have it, I'll show you where it is, just don't shoot!"

With that the intruder and his unwilling hostage made their way further into the mansion towards the vault. The thief kept the Glock shoved under Mr. Z's shoulder blades the entire way, the pressure a constant reminder of who was currently in charge of the situation. When the pair finally arrived at the vault, the intruder shoved Mr. Z toward the scanner with a barked order of "open it!" Mr. Z scrambled to place his hand on the palm scanner and stood upright as the scanner activated. With a pop and a hiss, the door opened to reveal the inside of the vault. They walked over to the case containing the Nugget and Mr. Z quickly typed in the code to unlock it. The case popped open and the Nugget was free for the taking. With a quick turn, the gunman pistol whipped Mr. Z and the young millionaire fell to the floor with a soft thud. The thief quickly moved over to the Nugget, picked it up and placed it into the small messenger bag that had been previously on his back. After securing the bag back onto his back, the intruder made his way back to the window that he had originally used to enter the mansion. Suddenly he heard sirens blaring in the distance coming closer. With a muffled curse he turned and made his way out of the window, the bag containing the Nugget pressing against his upper back. Once his feet were on the ground he took off at a run, the lights from the police cruisers already lighting up the woods in front of him. As he ran he could hear the steps of the officers in pursuit, the branches before him seeming to bar him escape from his pursuers. His breath caught as he tripped over a loose stone on the path, those behind him quickly taking advantage of his stumble. A scuffle ensued, the officers triumphing in the end, but the thief had left his captors with some bruises and black eyes between them. The handcuffs were put on the prisoner and the group made their way back to the flashing lights of the police cruisers.

Once they arrived at the cruisers, the thief was read his Miranda rights and then put in one of the cruisers. The officers had responded to a call from the butler, who lived on the property. He told them that there had been a break in and that currently the perpetrator had the owner of the house at gunpoint. Thanks to the butler's quick thinking and the police's arrival the thief had been caught. Mr. Z was currently being checked by an EMT for a mild concussion, but other than that he seemed without injury. Once he caught sight of the officers approaching him carrying the thief's messenger bag, he pushed aside the EMT and stalked toward them. He began asking a torrent of questions that ran together, babbling about the thief. Finally the Sergeant in charge of the operation silenced him with a raised hand and a look that commanded silence. Mr. Z stood there flabbergasted for a second, his mouth opening and closing slightly for a few seconds and then he was silent. The Sergeant quickly, and to the point, explained that they had caught the thief and that they had taken everything that he had on him at the time of his arrest. The officers believed Mr. Z's property was in the messenger bag that they had taken from the thief and they wished him to verify that the item in the bag was his property. Mr. Z nodded and the group made its way over to the back of one of the police cruisers to check the contents of the messenger bag that was confiscated from the thief. Mr. Z opened the bag to reveal the Nugget, its golden surface reflecting the light from the police cruisers. Suddenly Mr. Z gasped! The whole group could see there was a dent in the Nugget, but instead of glossy gold there was a dark grey blemish!

It had been a few hours since the thief's capture and the discovery that the Nugget in Mr. Z's possession was a fake. Currently the fake was being exposed to multiple tests and being documented for the investigation. So far it seemed that the outer shell of the fake, a layer of about 1/16th of an inch around the Nugget, was made up of actual gold. The rest of the Nugget, the core, was composed of tungsten. As soon as the fake was discovered, a call was placed to the Justice League, who then sent in members of the Team to investigate the fake and how its presence went unnoticed. Once Robin and Kid Flash arrived at the lab they immediately went to work. It was quickly realized that whoever had made the fake nugget was incredibly intelligent. First off, tungsten and gold weigh nearly the same and both block radiation due to their density, so an x-ray test would have proved useless. The layer of gold used to cover the Nugget was thick enough that if any samples were taken or was knocked to test for the right tone then it would pass. Also the fake was flawless in that it was to scale and had all of the defining marks that the original did. Finally they were ready to melt the gold layer off and examine the tungsten core. Tungsten has a much higher melting point than gold so the core would be unaffected by the process of removing the gold.

After three hours, the melting process was completed and the tungsten core had cooled enough that it could be examined for any clues. During the process, the examiners were constantly taking photos and samples of the gold mixture to document and test. The tungsten core was laid out on one of the examination trays and Robin began to physically examine it. He slowly rolled it in his gloved hands, scanning the surface of the core for anything that stood out. Instantly his eyes were drawn to a line of writing. He had to squint to read the tiny letters. "A Fool and his gold are easily parted." After the statement there was a hazy looking letter M. Robin clenched his hand into a fist as he realized the implication of the insignia, Miasma. Somehow, without the Team knowing, he had successfully switched the real nugget out and left a very convincing fake behind to taunt them! The biggest question... How did he pull it off?

 **If you enjoyed this story or have any suggestions for future ones please leave a review and let me know. Also I have put my plans for this series on my profile, so if your interested you can read it or if you just want the story you don't have to look at a big author's note. Anywho until next time!**


	3. Chapter 3 A Fool's Gold Part 2

I want to thank everyone who has favorited, followed, or reviewed! I get so excited for every new message that I get. If you have any ideas or questions please leave a review and I'll try to get back to you as soon as possible. So on to the important stuff that keeps me from being sued!

Chapter prompts are taken from the Evil Overlord list with the permission of the author of the list. The Evil Overlord List is Copyright 1996-1997 by Peter Anspach. AKA, I own nothing except Miasma! All rights go to their owners, Danny Phantom belongs to Butch Hartman and Young Justice to DC.

~~~~~~~~《¤》~~~~~~~

The moon hung low in the sky over the small gas station, as the lone attendant stood behind the counter hoping for something to happen to break the monotony of his shift. Outside the gas station, in one of the few trees near it, lurked a shadow, its eyes a vibrant green blocked by the branches it crouches among. Watching and waiting, like a large cat lying in wait for its prey, it continued its vigil, never moving, a statue. The figure turned its head as a white SUV pulled into the gas station parking lot. After a few seconds two men exited the SUV; one quickly made his way inside the gas station. The figure let himself turn intangible, falling through the tree silently and made his way underground towards the SUV. Once under it he kept his intangibility and then became invisible. He swiftly phased inside the vehicle, noting the positions of the guards and ducked out again. He carefully reached up into the armored box that sat in the middle of the center set of seats, next to one guard. The second guard sat up front in the driver's seat and the third one was still inside the gas station. The shadow grabbed the object that lay within the box, letting his intangibility flow over it, allowing it to pass through the bottom of the box. He reached into the bag that hung over his back, removed the object that was currently resting in the bag, and placed the one he stole into the bag. A sound of footsteps was heard as the guard from inside the gas station returned and traded places with the one sitting next to the locked box. The second guard ran inside the gas station. Realizing that his time was growing short the shadow quickly placed the replacement inside the box and flew back down into the ground. He resurfaced in the tree he had originally been waiting in when the SUV drove up, his eyes gleaming at his easy success. The guards below were oblivious to what he had done as the third guard arrived back to the vehicle and the SUV pulled out of the lot and continued on to its destination.

The Next Morning

As Miasma stood in line at the ticket booth to get into the celebration, the looks he was getting from the people around him were quite amusing. Parents were trying to control their children while they themselves were whispering in less than stealthy tones about his outfit. Of course on the outside he kept a happy, oblivious look on his face and acted as if he didn't hear them. They were not the reason he was here. Sure, he had already gotten the Kleinsville Nugget and had successfully replaced it with the duplicate, but he could not waste this chance to observe his opponents in action. Any info he could accumulate could prove useful in future skirmishes with them. He made his way through the crowd headed to where the "Nugget" was being showcased on the main stage. He watched as the various members of the Team went about their assigned duties. He carefully observed their interactions, how they functioned as a group, analyzing their strategy as he had done for many years when studying his past opponents.

As Miasma continued to walk through the celebration he kept up his act, babbling about the history surrounding the town and the Nugget to nobody in particular. He watched as a random man tried to get into the private viewing of the Nugget. The man was quickly ushered on his way by Aqualad in his security guard uniform while Superboy and Artemis stayed inside with the Nugget. Miasma let himself chuckle softly as he observed how uptight the Team was. The whole group was glancing around constantly, some more obviously than others. Kid Flash was clenching and unclenching his hands nervously. Miasma glanced at the flip phone he had been carrying around and noted that it was nearly time for the celebration to end. He turned and leisurely made his way toward the exit gates, his thoughts turning to what he had learned so far about his opponents. They were teens and still had a lot to learn, but after reading multiple mission reports that he had hacked from the Justice League system there was no doubt in his mind that they were indeed worthy adversaries. Most notably was of course Robin, being trained by the Bat was a major point in his favor, but add in his acrobatic fighting style and hacking abilities and he was a formidable opponent. Artemis mostly leaned on ranged attacks, but was still a threat in hand to hand combat. Kid Flash was a bit of a loud mouth and a hot head. That was to be somewhat expected of speedsters, whose feet moved faster than their brains, but super speed was nothing to laugh at. Aqualad was the leader and as such he was paid special attention when Miasma was gaining intel on the Team. Not prone to acting rashly, he was the grounding force of the group of teens, he read deep into the actions of those around him and analyzed them. His Atlantean physiology and upbringing gave him multiple tools in battle, his water whips being one such example. The final two members were more raw and untrained than the rest, but they were still dangerous. Superboy, a clone of Superman, with a temper that matched his impressive strength, easily riled, but once his rage was focused there was little that can stop him. Miss Martian, Martian Manhunter's niece was quite powerful, but was sometimes unable to control her powers.

As a whole the Team is a force to be reckoned with, one that he will enjoy facing. A victor in a battle is based on sustaining a balance of knowledge and strength, both of which he has plenty of. The Team has strength, but as long as he, Miasma, remains a shade, a mystery, they have nothing. Hopefully after his little message that he left on the fake nugget the Team is ready to go another round. He's always ready for another battle of wits, let them try again.


	4. Chapter 4: Such a Tangled Web Part 1

**Hey and a big thanks to everyone who has taken time to read, favorite, follow, and review this story of mine! Sorry for the longer wait than previous chapters. Life and a minor case of writer's block that took some getting through were a big part of the issue. Also this chapter does not have a set prompt from the Evil Overlord list, it actually started as a suggestion from my dad that sort of just went wild. So I hope that all of you enjoy this chapter and if anyone has any suggestions or comments I am all ears!**

 **Also I am not expert on medieval artifacts, museum protocol, or fire fighting protocol! The artifacts mentioned in the story, the Lewis Chessmen are real artifacts that are currently owned by the British Museum. The photo I used as a reference I found on wikipedia.**

 **And of course here is the necessary bits that no one reads, the disclaimers! Chapter prompts are taken from the Evil Overlord list with the permission of the author of the list. The Evil Overlord List is Copyright 1996-1997 by Peter Anspach. AKA, I own nothing except Miasma! All rights go to their owners, Danny Phantom belongs to Butch Hartman and Young Justice to DC.**

 **Chapter 4: Such a Tangled Web Part 1**

The Team had been called out due to a break in that occurred at a research lab in Virginia. According to the lead scientist at Arch Labs, only a failed prototype was missing. A lab computer and the paper files on the project had also been destroyed. The prototype had originally been created to allow a human to teleport over short distances through solid objects via a handheld device. The project was scrapped after it was found that a mouse weighing 1 ounce did not survive being transported and after much testing it was found that the device could only transport an inanimate object weighing up to 3 ounces. After this discovery the prototype and its relevant data had been stored together in the lab of the scientist who had been previously been in charge of the project, Dr. Elise Rathwell. She had been fired after the project fell through and had stormed out of the lab swearing to make the company regret letting her go. She had always been disrespectful of those under her and drama followed her like a shadow. The company had been considering letting her go for some time, but she was the expert on the project and they had to keep her on until the project was completed. What many didn't know was that she had been caught trying to access files from another project. Specifically a classified project that had been commissioned by the United States government. It was known that the Government had hired the company, but the specifics were kept under wraps. Dr. Rathwell was kept on board after the event only because she had not even come close to hacking the files and because her project had had so much potential at the time. Now the company was wishing they had never heard of her or her research.

Currently she was the most likely suspect and the crime scene seemed to suggest a single person at work, working alone to exact her vengeance against those she believed to have wronged her. Whether it was Dr. Rathwell or someone else, whoever had broken in had been thorough when seeking to erase the presence of the prototype from the company.

The lab computer that was damaged was the one that contained the files on the prototype and there was nothing left of the paper files except for a pile of ash that was scrubbed into one of the office rugs. There was a trash can on its side nearby that had a light dusting of ash on the inside, suggesting the files had been burned in the can before the resulting ash had been dumped all over the carpet. The door to the lab had been opened with a key card that had gone missing shortly after Dr. Rathwell's departure from the company. From what they could tell nothing else in the building had been disturbed and the thief had gone directly to and from Dr. Rathwell's old office. The Team's main objective would be to track Dr. Rathwell down and remove the prototype from her possession and return it to Arch Labs. The lead scientist had been able to help them with tracking down the transporter. It seemed that when it was used it left a trace of a certain type of non-harmful radiation in the area around it; unfortunately the radiation did not stay around for more than 4 hours. The radiation also did not seem to be absorbed by the body so there was no way to use that to connect a person to the transporter. Upon learning this Robin made the modifications to his wrist computer so that it would be able to detect traces of the radiation up to fifteen feet away. Though the transporter itself only had the ability to transport non living objects weighing 3 ounces or less it still could be used in many ways that spelled trouble for peace keeping organizations. With that in mind the Team began looking for Dr. Rathwell as a top priority.

 **Two hours after the visit to Arch Labs**

The Team had found out very little about Dr. Rathwell and what they had learned were the basics. Dr. Elise Rathwell, 37 years old, was originally from New York. She had begun working for Arch Labs three years prior to when she was fired. When she had started at Arch she also brought with her two assistants, Reva Tempest and Jake Fletcher. When Dr. Rathwell was fired, both of her assistants were fired as well but they were seemingly okay with it, one even saying how happy they were not having to work for Dr. Rathwell anymore. The assistants left on great terms with the company and, from what they had heard, had moved on to other areas of research. That left Dr. Rathwell as their only suspect up to this point unless more info came to light. There was currently a APB out for bringing Dr. Rathwell in, at least for questioning and likely for stealing the prototype. There had been a few hits on it that were called in from local law enforcement, mainly within the nearby town of Malbone where she lived. In response, the Team had staked out her house in hopes that she would come there with the prototype in her possession. Kid Flash was put out by the extreme need for patience and complete lack of entertainment, also known as he complained constantly over the mindlink. It had gotten to the point that half the Team was ready to remove him from the link and Artemis had been restrained twice when their target finally arrived. The tall, haughty brunette was walking down the sidewalk in front of her house when she spotted Aqualad who was dressed in civvies. Her steps faltered slightly at the sight of the tall youth. Dr. Rathwell's house was set back from the main road a bit and surrounded by trees and well-hidden; a perfect place for an ambush. Suddenly Dr. Rathwell pulled a device from within her coat and pointed it towards Aqualad when a blur of red flew by. Rathwell stiffened as electricity coursed through her body. Robin stood over the fallen Doctor, the tazer he had just used grasped in one hand and a pair of handcuffs held in the other. The limp figure of Dr. Rathwell was sprawled out on the sidewalk, a small device laying loosely in her hand. The rest of the Team slipped from the surrounding brush, carrying what supplies they had brought with them. With hardly a sound the Team collected Dr. Rathwell and made their way to the Bio-ship.

The Team quickly headed to the meeting spot that the League had designated for the transfer of Dr. Rathwell to League custody pending an interrogation with a lawyer present. They were met by Green Lantern Stewart who was in civvies. It had been decided after Rathwell was apprehended that she and all of her personal effects would go to the League for examination while the Team would continue looking deeper into her background and personal life for a lead.

The forensics team that was working for the League had set it up so that any information that they learned was directly sent to the Team. The first thing that the forensics team focused on studying was the specs on the weapon that Dr. Rathwell had attempted to use on Aqualad. The weapon did not shoot normal bullets, but contained specially built tazer rounds, which Robin informed them had been designed by Wayne Labs during the last year. He explained that Batman had looked into the possibility of incorporating them into their arsenal at one point soon after their availability to the Gotham police force. The small discs in the hidden gun were not Wayne Lab originals, instead of the large W there was a blank grey space in the center. Cheap copies made to work like the originals, but with less planning put into keeping the user safe; dangerous, but not quite the potentially dangerous device they were looking for.

After an hour the Team also received the footage of the interview between Batman and Dr. Rathwell. Robin quickly went over the summary that had been attached and started laughing after reading the first paragraph. It seemed that upon Batman's arrival in the room, despite her lawyer's recommendations, Dr. Rathwell had started throwing a tirade of insults at him. Batman in response had just sat there for five minutes before he began speaking. It was obvious when watching the footage that the situation could easily be compared to when a parent is waiting out a child's temper tantrum. Ten minutes after Batman began talking Rathwell looked less sure of herself and was sweating quite a bit. The end of the interview was marked when Batman got up and left the room leaving Rathwell to stew in her thoughts. The summary had stated that Rathwell had an alibi for the time of the theft and under pressure had stated that she thought long and hard about getting back at Arch Labs, but she would never go that far. In the end the league had been forced to release her with a warning that they had their eyes on her. The Team was now stumped, their main suspect was nowhere near the Lab when it was robbed and their only choice was to start back at the beginning, checking for other possibilities.

Kid Flash took this moment to say " Well, at least this case has nothing to do with Miasma or his mind games!"

The rest of the Team nodded an affirmative, their last few run ins with the skilled thief had been both exhausting and puzzling. But in the here and now it was nearly midnight and it had been a long day, it was agreed by all that they should get some sleep and look at the case in the morning with fresh eyes.

During breakfast the next morning the Team was startled by a call from Batman. The League had been contacted about a robbery that occurred at the British Museum that morning. A note had been left in place of the stolen artifacts, having the mark of Miasma on it. The Team was promptly dispatched to the scene in hope of finding something to help in eventually capturing Miasma.

On the way over they had been updated on the artifacts thanks to a briefing sent from Batman. The stolen pieces were a part of the Lewis chessmen, a set believed to have originated from Norway and crafted around 1150-1200 AD. The chessmen in the set owned by the museum were believed to originally have been 4 sets and then pieces were lost. Before this morning, there had been a total of 78 chess pieces. The set was currently one of the few complete sets from its time period. The pieces that were stolen were one of the kings and a bishop. They had been in the case one second and the next they were gone with the folded note lying where the king had once stood. Luckily there hadn't been a tour in the room at the time and the security guard had quickly called it in and cordoned off the wing. The police arrived soon after and once the note was opened and Miasma was revealed to be behind it, the League was contacted, immediately calling the Team. So here they were flying to the British Museum on the tail of the exasperatingly elusive thief.

Upon their arrival at the service entrance of the museum they were greeted by the director of the museum, Mr. Jonathan Acharya, and the head of security Caleb Dornfield. The pair quickly led the Team through the museum halls while explaining the need for as much secrecy concerning what was stolen as possible. The Lewis Chessmen was one of the Museum's most popular artifacts and while only two had been stolen, the heist could encourage more attempts from other thieves due to this one's success. During this time the Team had the mindlink open and were commenting on the pair who were guiding them to the wing where the missing chessmen had been on display. Mr. Acharya was handling the situation with mostly contained anxiety and a faux front that was fooling most of the people in the group, except for Robin of course. Dornfield, according to his file that was included with Batman's briefing, was ex-British Special Forces. He had been honorably discharged after being injured in combat and received the Victoria Cross for his acts of valor on the battlefield.

The group finally arrived at The Sir Paul and Lady Ruddock Gallery where the missing chessmen had been displayed. The area was swarming with police officers and CSIs who were scouring the area for any physical evidence. A tall figure in a trench coat separated from the semi-organized chaos and headed in the direction of the group. He quickly explained that he had been to chosen to work with the Team on their investigation into the disappearance of the two chessmen. He then led the Team over to the display case that held the remaining chess pieces. It was located near the center of the room, surrounded by other display cases that contained numerous treasures. The chess board themed case had tiles that were random levels so as to show off certain pieces of the set of chessmen. Two chess squares in the back middle of the display were empty and the note that had been found on one of them had already been dusted for prints and bagged. The message on the note was as much a challenge as the previous ones they had received, it simply read "Let the Games begin…". The note was made with the usual magazine and newspaper clippings to spell out the message and glued to common copy paper.

Suddenly Robin's wrist computer began beeping softly and the holographic screen popped up. He quickly read the screen and explained his findings. The area around the case was filled with the radiation left by the prototype transporter they were looking for! From the level of degradation of the radiation the use of the transporter lined up with the time when the chessmen disappeared. The only conclusion was that somehow Miasma had been the one to make off with the teleporter and had found a way to enhance the device to the point that it could handle the weight of the two chessmen. Once the Team realized the connection they instantly put in a call to Batman to apprise him of situation, during which they learned more surprising news.

It seemed that earlier that very morning Dr. Rathwell's ex assistant, Reva Tempest, had nearly lost her rental house due to an explosive charge that had been set. The small explosion had started a fire and blown up part of the corner of the house. Luckily Miss Tempest had been awake at the time and had called the fire department. One of the neighbors reported seeing a figure leaving the scene, but didn't get a good look. The police had quickly followed up the lead and had located a camera further down the street that had caught an image of the arsonist. The arsonist had been quickly tracked down and arrested. At that moment Dr. Elise Rathwell was facing charges of arson and maybe even attempted murder depending on how the investigation panned out. When she was questioned at the police station, she admitted that she had been embezzling from the teleporter project and that Tempest had accidently stumbled on it. Rathwell, at the time, had threatened to ruin Miss Tempest's career if she tried to report Rathwell's crime and it now seemed that she was willing to go one step further to keep Miss Tempest silent.

Currently Miss Tempest was not allowed in her house due to the emergency response units and fire marshal having cordoned off the area. Thankfully her landlord had allowed her to stay at another one of his rental properties for as long as was required due to the circumstances. The fire had been quickly put out due to the efforts of the local fire department and now some of the firefighters were attempting to salvage what belongings they could from the wreckage. The explosive charge that had started the fire had been placed at the corner of the house where the guest room was located. The guest room had been the only room affected by the explosion. The fire had caused the rest of the damage to the rental house.

Upon hearing this, the Team left copies of all known information about Miasma (what little they had that is) with the London police and asked them to inform them if they had any developments on the case of the missing chessmen. The Team headed home to Mount Justice, their minds even more a swirl of thoughts thanks to the tangled web that this case presented.


	5. Chapter 5: Such a Tangled Web Part 2

**Here it is folks, the promised second part to my previous chapter, Such a Tangled Web Part 1. It certainly lived up to its name. This chapter started out as a idea that would maybe reach two thousand words tops, well it grew quite a bit during the writing process reaching a whopping 5,820 words! Considering all my previous postings add up to 7,999 words I found this astonishing. Anywho you guys probably just want to get to the story so here is Such a Tangled Web Part 2.**

 **Disclaimer: I do not own Danny Phantom or Young Justice, if I did I would have pushed YJ Season 3 to the top of production long ago! I also do not own McDonald's or the British Museum, heck if I did my guinea pigs would have their own room and a person in charge of their basic needs, that was not me, while I just cuddled the little sweeties! But alas I own none of the above. The Evil Overlord List is Copyright 1996-1997 by Peter Anspach. I only own anyone you don't recognize, including Miasma.**

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The sun was shining and there was a light breeze that made the day a perfect day. The little neighborhood was a bustle, taking advantage of the fine weather. Not just families, but also teenagers and seniors citizens alike were out and about soaking up the sun. One of the more popular spots was the local McDonald's where hyperactive kids were running rampant throughout the play area while the harried parents sought the company of their own friends. Amidst the chaos there was a man and a woman sitting at a table watching one of the kids who was around five squealing and playing happily. Upon seeing that the kid was okay the pair then turned back to the conversation that they had been previously having, one that no one would expect to take place in a an establishment like McDonald's.

The pair smiled happily at each other and then the man began speaking. His voice wasn't above or below average pitch, his words being the true carrier of his message. His tone gave nothing away to the surrounding tables. He began to tell the tale of the most recent exploit of the master thief Miasma.

His tale began nearly a month and a half before the current date when the great thief had planned and prepared to put into action his next heist when he hit a wall, literally. He had decided to steal some of the world famous Lewis Chessmen. He had everything planned, sneaking into the British Museum at night while using one of his powers and then swapping out the Chessmen for multiple fakes so that there would be a bit of time before it was discovered. It was just over a month before the planned heist when he went to scope out the Museum that he discovered the one major obstacle to his plan. It seemed that some scientists had recently put forward evidence to the existence of "ghosts" that many of the major museums were worried enough that they invested in the anti-ghost tech, despite the eccentric nature of the scientists. Unfortunately he learned of the shield when he walked straight into it, luck was with him in that no one noticed his abrupt stop. Now he was faced with a conundrum. He could either find a way to destroy the shield generator or work around the generator somehow. If he destroyed the generator there was an incredibly high chance of the Team figuring out the connection between his success as a thief and the generator, thus ending his career as a criminal and giving him a one way ticket to the GIW's holding cells with a almost 100% chance of him being on a dissection table within the week. He felt the involuntary shiver race up his spine as he remembered some of the stories he had heard about the organization and its ruthlessness. With a shake of his head he focused on the present problem. The only option was to find a way around the generator. Many people would ask why he didn't choose a new target, why he was so set on pulling off this heist. The truth? It was a challenge and he hadn't had a tough job in a bit, especially one that made him plan to such an extent. It was quite exhilarating and the reactions of the Team with every successful heist just added to the satisfaction.

His plan to find a way around the shield generator led him to discover a prototype handheld teleporter that had been created by a group called Arch Labs. It's files stated that it was a failure in that it could only work with nonliving objects that weighed under three ounces. All members of the staff who had been attached to the project were fired after it fell through, the lead scientist, a Dr. Elise Rathwell, and her two assistants, Reva Tempest and Jake Fletcher. After much research into the scientists and every aspect of the project, he had made a few discoveries that helped with his plans. It seemed that Dr. Rathwell was currently embezzling funds from the teleporter project. Also she had attempted to hack into government files stored on the Arch Labs computer system concerning a classified project. From the report of the incident she didn't even get close. The sense of hilarity was quickly doubled when he read the report on her character and interaction with her coworkers. The woman seemed to be a cross between a narcissist and a drama queen with delusions of grandeur. The blow to her pride alone at her dismissal must have been quite astronomical. He allowed himself a chuckle as he leaned over the computer and then continued researching the people involved in the project. The files on Rathwell's assistant, Reva Tempest, were of great interest though. She earned high grades in school, but she also showed creativity when dealing with problems outside the classroom. Personality wise she seemed to be less assertive about expressing herself and her ideas, which left many with the impression that she could be treated like a door mat without consequence. Looking back further into her life, she had been adopted by her recently deceased family; according to the info available she had been about 11 at the time. Growing up she had not only been a bit of a science wiz, but at one point she was training in Aikido. She had been pretty good from what he could find about the few competitions that she had entered, at least until her family moved and school got harder and then it wasn't important. Overall she was an option worth investigating further, especially if she would be able to help him get the transporter prototype.

After doing a thorough background check he had finally reached a decision. He would have to contact Ms. Tempest to look into the possibility of using the teleporter in his current heist. It took some planning and more research, but he was prepared to meet his possible pawn. Currently he was leaning against a building across the street from her house. Miss Tempest should be headed back home from her current job at a low level research lab. When checking her finances, it became glaringly obvious that Tempest had really needed the job at Arch Labs to succeed. She had invested a large amount of funds left to her by her parents into the project in hope of aiding her career and financial situation. Thanks to Rathwell's embezzlement and overall failure to produce results, those hopes were dashed. The research job that Tempest had currently just barely paid the bills and kept food on the table. Finally the subject of his thoughts came around the corner and headed up the steps of her rental house, the door of which certainly needed some repair. After a few minutes the master thief stood upright and made his way across the street, the neighborhood around him quiet for late afternoon on a weekday. He stood at the door, took a breath, and then knocked. The door was carefully opened a moment later by a woman of medium height with brown eyes and short cut brown hair. Miasma politely tipped the baseball cap he wore and then introduced himself as Butch Norris, a reporter for the Nekonata Science Journal and asked if he could interview her. After giving him a somewhat wary look she invited him in. The hallway he stepped into was well-lit, the pictures on the wall were filled with people smiling back at the pair as they walked by. The thief followed his target as she led him toward a slightly worn, but clean sofa. Once they were seated she turned toward him and asked him why he had come to see her. He explained that the magazine that he worked for had received info that she had been recently fired from Arch Labs. While not incredibly well-known, those that did know of Arch knew them for their leaps and bounds in certain areas of research. There were rumors of one area of research, in particular, that the company was working on, the area of future level transporters. It had been believed that the Justice League and other higher levels of power had access to stationary transporters, but the rumors floating around had suggested to the presence of a portable transporter, one that could easily revolutionize the world as they knew it! And his sources believed that she might have info on this amazing device!

At his words her gaze slipped to the floor for one second, breaking off the intense stare that she had held on him the entire time that he had talked, and then she looked him in the eye.

"There isn't much I can tell you, Mr. Norris, the majority of the project is a secret, but what I can tell you is that at the time of my departure from Arch Labs the project you are speaking about was shut down after it didn't yield results quick enough to suit the sponsors. Other than that I have no knowledge about the current state of affairs at Arch Labs."

With a flick of his brown dyed hair, the supposed Mr. Norris nodded his understanding and then continued.

"If you have no current data, Miss Tempest, would you at least be willing to give a statement on any discoveries that you made during your career at Arch Labs?"

Miasma watched the woman in front of him for any reaction to his question. Not only for info on the teleporter, but also to gauge whether or not she knew about Rathwell's embezzlement of funds from the project and in so doing ruining Tempest's life for the foreseeable future. Her jaw tightened for a split second and then relaxed as she spoke.

"There wasn't anything worthy of mention that was learned during my time at Arch Labs, nothing but the normal mundane little steps that every person on a new project must go through."

Miasma felt a thrum of disappointment as well as a bit of curiosity. The woman in front of him had been adept at avoiding giving away any information about the project, but with his prior knowledge of the case it was painfully clear that she knew about Rathwell's embezzlement from the project. He had learned all he could learn from her for now, best to let her think on it.

"Thank you very much Miss Tempest for allowing me to take up some of your valuable time. If at some point you think of something you would wish to share to our readers then please do not hesitate to call me."

With that the supposed Butch Norris gave her his card with the number on it for a cell phone that he had set aside specially for this situation. The short brown haired woman across from him looked at the card a second and then carefully took it. She then escorted him out of the house and politely said goodbye. As Miasma made his way down her front steps toward his car that was parked down the street he mulled over the conversation he just had and the enigma of a woman he had met. There was something about Reva Tempest that just wouldn't leave him alone, her face, no it was her eyes. The familiar feel of someone looking deep within him that he hadn't felt in years but no, it couldn't be her! He had lost her so long ago and despite his genius, there had been one thing he could never have, or so he thought. There was only one way to be sure, the rose would tell him if it was truly her or just the wish of a grieving thief. The rose that had belonged to his mother, that he had given to her before they had been separated. His lips pulled back in a snarl as he remembered that day, the two children crying as they were torn away from each other. He had barely had time to slip the rose pendant to her before he had been taken to see his "new family", not even given a moment to say goodbye! With a shudder he reined in his emotions and set his mind to the task before him. If his theory was true, well then he would decide what to do at that time.

It was 2 days later that Miasma received the expected call from Reva Tempest wanting to talk to "Butch Norris" about something big. He quickly told her that he would meet her at a local coffee shop in about 30 minutes. After making his way to the Kaŝita, the coffee shop that he had mentioned to Miss Tempest as a meeting point, he ordered his coffee and immediately sat down. Less than 2 minutes later a slightly haggard looking Reva Tempest made her way into the coffee shop. She immediately headed over to him and sat across from him. Her eyes were glancing all around her. The look in her eyes reminded him of a rabbit he had seen in the wild when he had been younger. The rabbit had been hiding from a nearby coyote that was hot on its scent. The rabbit hadn't stood a chance. Too quickly the coyote had scared the rabbit from its hiding place and had jumped on it before its prey could get away. The same look of fear shone in Reva Tempest's eyes, that of something trapped with little hope of escape.

"You said you had something big you wanted to tell me?" Miasma asked.

"Yes, there is." As she answered him she seemed to steady herself, a determined look appeared on her face.

Miasma settled himself into the booth, his phone laying on the table ready to record the coming conversation. With a nod to Reva she began speaking.

"It was 3 years ago that I met Dr. Elise Rathwell. At first I was excited to be able work under such a renowned scientist, but after a while it became obvious that while the doctor was talented she was also a complete and utter jerk. Most people thought she was just prideful or deluded about her own abilities, but there were times when working for her was unbearable. Every day she took joy in belittling me and to a lesser extent, my co-assistant Jake Fletcher. When she and the two of us were hired by Arch Labs to work on one of their newest projects, it seemed like finally my luck was changing. Once we started on the project and I was sure that there was a reasonable chance that it would succeed, I spoke with one of the people from the finance sector and was able to invest almost all the money that my parents had left to me when they died six months ago. I invested it specifically in the teleporter project. Looking back I should have invested in a different project, as Rathwell was in charge of the project. Three or four months after I invested in the project something seemed off about the funds that were currently available for use. It just didn't match up. There were times that there should have been plenty of funds to pay for supplies needed but there weren't, or supplies were ordered but went missing. Finally one day I did some digging and what I found shocked me. Dr. Rathwell had been embezzling from the project since the beginning! I couldn't believe it! She was a self-absorbed jerk and could be cruel at times, but embezzling from her own project?

Unfortunately it was soon after that I was surprised by her coming to my house. She told me that she knew I had found out about her embezzling and if I told anyone she would burn my life to the ground so that there would be nothing left but ashes. I could tell that she meant it, her eyes never wavered the whole time she said that and more to me. After that day she never left me alone. Even Jake wondered if there was something wrong. It was sometime later when we were informed that the project was being cancelled due to the lack of results. Dr. Rathwell was furious. She went straight to the head of the facility and from what I heard she had to be escorted off the premises. Jake and I were also laid off at the time, but it in a way was a relief. I wouldn't have to work with Dr. Rathwell anymore. My happiness was short lived when the I realized the seriousness of my circumstances. I had lost my job with one of the most prosperous research labs, the majority of my saved cash had been used in a my attempt to invest in the transporter, and on top of that Rathwell still was threatening me if I told anyone about her embezzling. After a while I was able to find a job that helped me pay the rent and scrape by, but Rathwell continues to haunt me. I am not stupid. She can at any time on a whim decide that I am too much of a loose end to risk leaving undealt with. I haven't seen her since that last time when she left Arch Labs, but holding this secret inside is killing me. I wasn't the only one affected by her embezzling and if I don't do something, she will do it again! This was my situation when you came to me, this is the secret that I have held."

After she finished speaking she looked at Miasma and he now saw the iron core that was hidden inside her. She was a survivor, a rarity amongst the soft minded rabble that populated the streets of the cities. At the same moment he saw something that he had not noticed during the interview. Around her neck was a golden chain, and at the end of that chain hung a rose. Its red center was a complex pattern of red petals encircled by a single round of barely seen green leaves. It was her. Unaware to him a name slipped past his lips.

"Rayne."

She started and looked at him closer, a gasp.

"Smoke?"

Unbidden a real tear slipped down his face as his cleverly formed mask began to crumble. The pair looked at each other with a light dawning in their eyes, the realization that someone precious, long thought lost, was found. With that shared epiphany the pair quickly made their way out of the coffee shop to a place with less prying eyes.

Later that night, the couple were sitting at a secluded park bench. They had spent the time since their discovery of the other's identity trying to catch up. Miasma had come clean about who he was, the thief, the Halfa, and the human life he led with his young son. As he spoke, his brown eyes filled with the emotions that he rarely showed anyone: pain for things lost, happiness when he mentioned those close to him, and finally the determination to protect that which is his. Reva watched him intently, analyzing him both as the man he now was and the child he had been when they were separated. Finally Miasma finished his story, ending with his current heist and how it had led him to discovering her. A moment of silence happened during which Miasma sat with bated breath, praying that Reva would accept his offer or at least be willing to see him after knowing his secret. She then turned to him, her expression unreadable, as she took a deep breath and let it out.

"After so long thinking that I had lost you, then my adopted parents, and the hell that happened these last few years, what makes you think that I would even let you out of my sight again?"

Her voice shook with emotion as she spoke to him. Miasma leaned over gently pulling her into his protective arms. As she finally cried the tears she had held inside for so long his eyes darkened with rage. There was a certain doctor that needed to learn an important lesson about messing with people close to a Halfa!

With Reva aiding him in secret, their plans to get the prototype teleporter moved quickly, especially with her inside knowledge of Arch Labs. With that goal next in mind Reva kept up her appearance of working at her current lab job to avoid suspicion once the heist went down. It was planned beforehand to go quickly so as to reduce the risk of the Team making the connection in time to disturb the theft of their main prize. Their target was still the Lewis Chessmen, or more specifically a king and a bishop from the world famous exhibit. With even the most miniscule details thought out they began.

The first step was of course the theft of the handheld teleporter prototype from Arch Labs. With Reva's knowledge and a stolen Arch Labs access card which had been liberated from Dr. Rathwell, Miasma quickly headed for Rathwell's old office. Once in, he quickly packed the hand-sized device in his satchel that hung over his shoulder along with any paper or digital files that Reva had needed to work on the teleporter. After securing the bag Miasma inserted a thumb drive into the computer. It contained a virus that would corrupt any and all data in the Arch Network that was connected to the teleporter. It would also have the result of destroying the computer he was currently working at approximately fifteen minutes after he stopped using it. While the virus began uploading, Miasma walked over to the file cabinets and began removing every scrap of data on paper about the teleporter. The ear piece he wore gave one quick beep, the signal that the fire alarm was turned off. At the signal, Miasma began putting bundles of papers into the metal wastebasket that sat nearby and lit the match. With a soft crackling the valuable information became ash. Once every piece was burned thoroughly Miasma dumped the black byproduct onto the carpet. He ground it into the carpet for good measure to make sure that there would be no salvaging the information it had contained. Once this task was done he retrieved the thumb drive after making sure that the info had been completely erased. As Miasma slipped out of the research complex while invisible, he couldn't help but grin in anticipation at what was to come next in their plan.

Now that the pair had the teleporter, all that was necessary was some calibration and work by Reva to make it fit their needs. She was a genius in her own right, something that Rathwell had never utilized to its fullest potential. It was three weeks later when Reva was showing Miasma the finished project. It resembled a simple watch, a clunky sporty type with a thick black rubber wrist strap to hold it securely to the wearer's arm. She pulled one of the two watches from the box and secured it around her wrist. With a touch she teleported a deck of cards that was lying on her side table across the room into Miasma's lap. She quickly explained how she had been able to increase the weight limit to 1.5 pounds and the distance to such that there should be no problem. The only thing was that the teleporter needed at least 6 hours to charge fully after each use or there could be the possibility of frying it. With that, the plan was now good to move to the next phase.

Miasma was standing in a London airport, his natural human face left without any type of mask. The reason for such measures bounced beside him, wide brown eyes taking in everything as his arms subconsciously tightened around his teddy bear, Lionheart. Miasma wrapped an arm around his son, the 5 year old leaning into him.

"Come on Ash, we need to head to our hotel and get checked in, then we can go see some sights."

The boy nodded happily and followed his father out of the busy airport. They got into a taxi and made their way to The Black Stag, where they were staying. The streets flew by as the black taxi zipped through them, its driver commenting on some major landmarks as he navigated to their destination. Ash was glued to the window, drinking in the sights and sounds with rapt attention. It was twenty minutes later when the pair arrived at their hotel and were quickly signed in.

Two days later and across the world Reva stood in her kitchen by herself, Miasma having gone to the museum to enact the his part of the plan. But first she had to do her part. With a shudder she typed in the phone number that she had once called at least once a day to give updates and status reports on the project. After a few rings she heard the phone get picked up, show time.

"Dr. Elise Rathwell, who's calling?" said the person on the other end.

With a deep breath to steady her, Reva then spoke. "Hello Elise, this is Reva."

The conversation that followed reminded Reva of the days when she used to work under Rathwell, the thinly veiled jabs at her, the insults, but there was one major difference. She didn't care what Rathwell thought about her now, or anyone else for that matter. She had found that one person who had been most precious to her when she was younger and that was everything to her. With that in mind Reva played her part, saying she couldn't stand to keep Rathwell's embezzling a secret anymore, that if Rathwell didn't turn herself in by the next morning at 7am Reva would go to the police and she would tell everything. After that Reva hung up with a sigh. What happened next would depend on Miasma.

 **A Few Hours Later**

Miasma and his son were walking down the streets of London headed toward the world renowned British Museum. They had spent the last few days looking at other attractions in London and today was their last day before heading home to the US. Their plan was currently to see most of the outside attractions at the museum, including the gardens. The ghost shield that surrounded the museum complex only covered the buildings, all the other areas were unprotected as they didn't have anything that the museum officials thought might be a target for a ghostly thief. They were semi-correct in this instance, but their attempt to cut costs would be their undoing. As the father and son wove their way through the crowds, Miasma looked at his watch. They had plenty of time to be in position when the fun started.

The sun was high in the sky when Miasma and Ash made their way to one of the nearby picnic tables and sat down to eat their lunch. The time was 11:50 pm.

Inside the museum the masses of people were crowding into the various exhibits. The tourists' eyes were big as they attempted to take in all the exhibits, their cameras flashing as they wandered around. At The Sir Paul and Lady Ruddock Gallery, a figure walked among the crowd, but he only had thoughts for one exhibit. The medium height male's blue eyes roved over the artifacts, looking at the Lewis Chessmen only a second longer than the rest. He followed the people around him until they were outside the room, at which point he fingered the watch on his wrist. There was a cry of surprise in the room behind them and the quick, slightly panicked voice of the guard who had been in the room. After that, the crowd was quickly shown out of the wing and their belongings were searched before being allowed to go their way. The man handed over his falsified ID and contact info and then slipped away into the crowds, just another face in the chaos. The time was now 12:00 pm.

Miasma looked at his watch again as he sat and watched his son play on the nearby jungle gym. Beside him on the bench sat the stuffed teddy bear, Lionheart, sitting safely out of harm's way. It was nearly time for the heist to occur and consequently when the pair would need to leave. A minute later the stuffed animal next to him shifted slightly on the bench. It was time. With that Miasma called to Ash and they gathered their belongings and started making their way back to their accommodations, completely ignoring the frenzy building a mere hundred yards away.

Once they arrived at their rooms Ash became engrossed in a picture book that his father had bought him while they were out that day, leaving Miasma to pack their bags and prepare to head home. There was one thing he needed to do fist though. Miasma touched the watch around his wrist and the teddy bear that was lying on the bed moved and beside it popped into existence the missing chessmen. With a chuckle Miasma began the final phase of his plan. During the early days of their visit he had bought a to size set of scale Lewis Chessmen, a special edition chess board included. He used his intangibility to phase inside of the game box and removed a king and a bishop. He quickly laid the authentic pieces in the empty spots in the Styrofoam insert. The two replicas that he had removed from the box were stowed into his pocket with the intent of dumping them into two donation bins for two different non-profit organizations on opposite ends of London. The box containing the Chessmen would then be packed and sent out under the name of one of his aliases later that day. The morning before, Miasma had set up an Ebay account under this particular alias's name and had performed the sale of one complete set of replica Lewis Chessmen and a board to his real ID. The package would be shipped overseas and arrive soon after Miasma and Ash had arrived home, thus evading customs while keeping his identity a secret. The last piece of tape was placed securely upon the box, safeguarding the treasures held within it. Quickly he packed up his and Ash's belongings making double sure that he had everything. With a deep breath Miasma made his way back into the living room, the package held safely in his hands as he made his way back to one of the few treasures he had that money could not buy. Ash's dark chocolate eyes twinkled merrily upon seeing his father, the mischief and life shinning in them like twin stars. The pair hurried out of the hotel, matching smiles on their faces as they hurried to the airport to catch their flight back to the US.

As they took their seats on the plane he looked at the watch that sat on his wrist, thinking of the woman who had made this heist possible. At this moment she should be settled into her new rental property which he owned, thus ensuring a stable source of housing and privacy from prying eyes when prepping for future heists. He had received a text from her just after the heist confirming that Rathwell had attempted to burn down her rental house with a bomb of all things. Luckily, as they had planned, Reva had been safely on the other side of the building when the explosive charge had been placed on the only side of the house that was accessible to an intruder. For without a key to the old partially rotten wooden fence that surrounded the majority of the perimeter of Reva's house, Rathwell's choice of location for the explosive had been easily predicted. He had held his breath the whole time since the heist till receiving the text saying that she was okay and the plan was going as they had hoped. From here onward the plan was moving towards completion like dominos. Once the first one had been tipped, all they had to do was watch them fall.

Upon arrival back in the States international channels were buzzing with the news that there had been a successful heist from the British Museum. Miasma couldn't help but smirk as he saw the fallout from what he had done. The chaos that occurred once it was known that he had been able to circumvent one of the most secure collections in the world was massive. Not only that, now his name was known, this heist could not be swept under the proverbial rug like the others had been. This was the start of him and his new gang playing on a whole new level.

 **Current day**

The couple sat at the table as they discussed all that had happened since the man had returned from his trip abroad. The woman told how she had recently had all her belongings that had been salvageable from the fire returned to her. This had prompted her at the end of her lease a week later to seek new housing much to her ex-landlord's relief. It wasn't everyday that the old grump of a man nearly had his properties, no matter the great need of repair, bombed by angry blackmailers. The man currently sitting across from her owned a small apartment building and had been willing to rent out an apartment to her on short notice. She now had her new landlord and his son as neighbors along with the older lady across the hall, Leanna, who was warming up to her. Her landlord had similar thoughts running through his head. If not for that ghost shield it was likely he might never have found Reva again especially not in time to deal with Rathwell. With a sigh they looked down at the replica chess board that they were playing with as they traded their stories. The King and Bishop were seated amongst the pretenders, treasures in plain sight, just like the people who were bringing them to life as they hadn't been for hundreds of years. Now that the story had reached its end, the pair in the McDonald's looked at each other, their smiles rare as precious stones, for the lot life had dealt them was not the easiest. But it seemed that things were looking up for the two: not alone anymore, they would face the world together as brother and sister, as King and Bishop.

 **/*** **/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/*/**

 **Hope you liked it, especially the bits of insight into Miasma that were worked in. There is one thing I wanted to say and this is as good a time to state it as any. There will be no romance between Reva and Miasma… Just eww! There may be romance in the future between other characters, it all depends on how my characters lead me. If there is a romance it will be a straight one. So… Loved the chapter, hated it, any ideas? Please pop me a review or a PM and I am willing to consider it. Especially any objects worthy of Miasma stealing them, hehe!**

 **Until next time!**

 **~ PhanomGoat13**


	6. Chapter 6 Dividing of the Ways Part 1

**Here we go, Ghostly Overlord chapter number six is ready! Hope you guys out there enjoy it, the ending isn't my favorite, but the next chapter promises to be better! So let me know what you think, I have gotten feedback from a few people who have had some great ideas that I am seriously considering to put toward future chapters. So thanks to one and all, because of you guys this story has been viewed almost** ** _5,000_** **times and has almost 40 favorites! Well enough of that before I get all teary eyed and have to get out the tissues! Enjoy!**

 **The Evil Overlord List is Copyright 1996-1997 by Peter Anspach. AKA, I own nothing except Miasma my OC! All credit goes to their owners; Danny Phantom belongs to Butch Hartman and Young Justice to DC. I also am not a expert in artwork, so this is all based off of what I have seen on tv shows and guess work.**

The cloudy gray skies warned of the storm that was lurking just beyond the horizon. At ground level a similar storm was occurring. The current mood in the refurbished warehouse was one that would make lesser men flee for the nearest bomb shelter. The room was filled with some of the most dog-eat-dog human beings known to man, art collectors. Every man and woman willing to do whatever was necessary to get the prize in front of them. The highlight of the night was the newly discovered Grandma Moses painting.

Anna Mary Robertson Moses began her career at the late age of 78, during which she painted well over 1,400 works of art. It was almost unheard of that a previously unknown piece of art created by this artist turned up, but it seemed that this time was the rare exception. The painting was signed by the artist in the bottom right corner of the art as she was prone to do. The _Dividing of the Ways_ was painted on masonite, a type of pressure formed wood similar to a cross between fine grain plywood and cardboard. This and the particular mixture of oil paint with tempura were consistent with many pieces of her work. Upon the surprising discovery of the _Dividing of the Ways_ , it was quickly checked out by a team of experts who after a rigorous testing were able to authenticate the masterpiece.

The current owner had found the painting in a storage unit when he had been cleaning it out. _Dividing of the Ways_ was found stacked amongst a number of other works, most of no great value. The finder of the work is currently withholding their identity due to their wishes to keep their privacy. All interactions with the authenticating crew and auction house had been anonymous. That was how this gathering of influential cutthroats that the rest of the world knows as art collectors happened to be gathered in one room. _Dividing of the Ways_ had been saved until last in the auction and the bidders were ready to begin. With a bang of his gavel the Auctioneer gained the attention of the crowd. He quickly called out the starting bid of $30,000 for the lost Grandma Moses painting. The bids flew back and forth across the room like speedsters on a sugar rush. In the short span of five minutes the bids has dwindled down and the current bid was $120,000. There remained three bidders who were duking it out for the painting. Marlena Ne ŝin was a land developer from the Eastern United States, coming from old money and using it mainly for acquiring paintings to add to her gallery. Fredrick Neniam was her biggest competitor when it came to the acquisition of self made artists like Grandma Moses. The last buyer was little seen, but quite well known, recluse Jeremy (Red) Haringo. He had received the nickname during one of his few appearances into the public eye. An up and coming reporter had been able to snap an excellent photo of the recluse and had christened him Red due to the crimson color of his straight jaw length hair. Marlena and Fredrick were the main bidders with Haringo watching and waiting, his calculating gaze shifting between his rivals. Marlena threw out her bid of $145,000. With a slight smirk Haringo put forward his counter offer. A pause rang through the building as the highest bid yet was placed by the quiet recluse, a whopping $170,000.

In those few precious seconds of indecision on the part of his rivals the auctioneer called "going once, going twice, sold!"

With a bang that reverberated throughout the auction house like the sentencing at trial, the gavel fell. The auction house was still for another moment during which Haringo calmly stood, tipped his Stetson and walked out. As he stepped over the threshold the room exploded in a chorus of hushed whispers and cries of indignation.

Three months after the auction Jeremy Haringo is sitting in his private gallery looking at his newest acquisition, _Dividing of the Ways_ , when suddenly a corner of the painting is on fire. Much to the collector's chagrin the valuable painting is quickly lit ablaze with light. With hurried strides the rich recluse runs to the specially formulated fire extinguisher that hangs nearby in an attempt to save his treasures. The pin fell to the floor and the suppressant flew as he ran back toward the fire. Once the fire is out Haringo steps closer to ascertain the damage, his breath catching in his throat as he reads the one word written into the painting with ash, Miasma. The cursive style writing covers the work, possessing it even in its needless destruction. With trembling fingers the millionaire types in the number for the police.

Later that very day members of the Team arrived on the scene of what appeared to be the latest deed done by Miasma. The smell of burnt oil and wood hung in the air, the current center of attention standing amidst the smoke next to the police captain, the victim, Mr. Haringo. The captain turned toward the approaching Robin and Artemis. The rest of the Team was currently on a mission from Batman and were unable to come investigate the fire and its connection to Miasma.

"Got to say this guy knows how to cause a ruckus. Ever since this was called in our phones back at headquarters has been off the hook with calls from the FBI, Interpol, and every other letter in the alphabet."

The captain quickly explained what happened: how only the recently acquired Grandma Moses had been targeted and once the fire had been put out how Mr. Haringo had called the police. Artemis started searching the room for access points other than the main doors as well as interviewing the staff for any thing the police may have missed. During this Robin instantly began scanning the area for any radiation that would suggest that the stolen prototype teleporter that was used by Miasma before to steal the Lewis Chessmen was used during this heist. Unfortunately there was no sign of the radiation near the painting or in the general area of the gallery. He explained his findings to Artemis and the adults as simply this, either other means were used or the tampering occurred before the four hour time period required for the residual radiation to dissipate beyond detection. The group was interrupted from their discussion by the CSIs, who had carefully examined the painting and had determined the source of the fire. It seemed that the fire had actually started inside the painting! From what the CSIs were able to put together it seemed that there had been a layer of some type of flammable gel on the masonite, which had then been painted over. At this point they were a little unsure, but there had been some type of trigger that had set the gel on fire. So unless Grandma Moses was an arsonist in her spare time it seems that the current painting was a forgery, and a very good one at that. At this information Jeremy Haringo, who until this moment had been standing by quietly listening to what the group was saying, spoke:

"But how? What I mean to say is how could this have happened? From the time the painting was first found and was originally authenticated it was never left unguarded. Even before the auction where I bought it, it was authenticated on the spot to be sure that there had been no attempts to pull a scam. After it came into my possession it has never left this hallway, which has some of the best security available as well as no less than six guards who I trust explicitly. So when could Miasma have been able to put this fake in the original's place?"

The exasperated and slightly perplexed expression of the millionaire showed that the question was an actual one. It was Robin who answered the question;

"Mr. Haringo, in the past Miasma has shown himself to be more than the average criminal, both in intelligence and inventiveness. Not just that, but he has also kept to the shadows, distancing himself from his crimes such that none up to this point have been able to find him, but I can promise you it is only a matter of time before he makes a mistake."

With those words the two teens turned and walked out of the room with all the skill and grace taught to them by their mentors, leaving the adult population left in the room flabbergasted.


	7. Chapter 7: Dividing of the Ways Part 2

PhantomGoat here. I know its been a while since my last chapter was posted. The main reasons have been writer's block, trying to work out details for the story (character backstories, how the heist was pulled off, etc.), and I got hooked on the Naruto fandom. So here I am after giving myself a talking to and making time to work on this chapter.

A while back one reader pointed to me the lack of knowledge about and depth to Miasma. The reason behind this is partially that his character is developing as I write. Truthfully it feels sometimes like his character tells me about himself when he's good and ready and not before. Hopefully this chapter gives out some answers to who he is and what drives him.

The idea for this chapter originated from an article my Mom forwarded to me about the famous anonymous artist Banksy and his work "Girl with a balloon". Banksy is known as a prankster it seems. One of his painting, "Girl with a balloon", was up for auction and from what the article said just after the bidding was finished, the painting selling for 1.2 million, a tiny shredder was activated in the bottom of the frame. The end result was a partially shredded painting. The idea of an auction ending with the new owner left with a ruined painting stuck in my head and so here is the end result, part 2 of Diving of the Ways. After the incredibly important disclaimer that is.

MIASMAMIASMAMIASMAMIASMA

Some chapter prompts are taken from the Evil Overlord list with the permission of the author of the list. The Evil Overlord List is Copyright 1996-1997 by Peter Anspach. AKA, I own nothing except Miasma! All rights go to their owners, Danny Phantom belongs to Butch Hartman and Young Justice to DC. Also the Brothers' Grimm stories, which I mention in here, obviously do not belong to me as my last name is not Grimm nor am I a descendent of them. If I did own any of the stories above then I wouldn't be writing about them on here! As with all fictional characters Miasma has decided to forage his own path and has come to the conclusion that he will not be defined solely by the Evil Overlord list. So from here on out if a rule was used as a prompt then I will include it, but otherwise just assume that the idea was a product of my overactive imagination!

The Brother Grimm mentioned is Snow White and Rose Red, one copy of the story can be found at Bartleby, remove the spaces and copy into your search engine. www. bartleby 17/2/42. html

MIASMAMIASMAMIASMAMIASMA

 **Dividing of the Ways Part 2**

There was a puff of dust and a thud as yet another plastic garbage bag flew through the air and hit the ground. Miasma had to grin slightly at the thought of what the Team what do if they could see him now. Their arch rival, the unstoppable thief who successfully pulled off a heist from the British Museum in broad daylight was currently dressed in old clothes, cleaning out a storage unit. Up to his knees in various bibs and bobs that had belonged to his adopted parents, he felt more ensnared than he had during any of the Team's attempts to apprehend him. He coughed as the dust continued to be stirred up by his movements. He found himself wishing he had accepted Reva's offer to help him with the storage unit that stood behind his apartment building. At the time it had seemed like a good idea that Reva would be able to spend time getting to know Ash while he worked on the unit. That was before he saw the inside of said unit. Right now he was contemplating driving back to the apartment and getting more supplies, a face mask to filter out the dust included in that list. But first it would be wise to get a better idea of what he was facing now that he had removed some of the most obvious trash from the unit.

Some time later he was still wading through the various items that his adopted parents had no longer needed, but hadn't wanted to part with. As he was searching through a pile of old receipts his eye was caught by a painting, a winter scene of some type from the corner of it that he could see. It was resting against one wall along with multiple other works of art. After moving aside a old griddle and some bags of his adopted mom's old clothes, he was standing in front of the paintings. With a careful grip on the paintings, so as not to potentially damage any of the pieces of art, he made his way outside to the sunny June day. After pulling a random tarp from the wreckage that was the storage unit, he gently laid the paintings on it. What had first stuck out to him once the paintings were in the light was the quality of the frames and canvases, most of which were made from either well made materials or had been cared for meticulously. He instantly was drawn to the first work that had snared his attention earlier, the winter scene. It was quite beautiful. The main focus of the picture was two horse drawn sleds in the foreground. The two sleds had reached a fork in the road, one sled going each way. The backdrop of the picture, an amazing view of high snow covered hills and a sky so blue that it seemed to glow with a light of its own. He had seen many things that caught his attention when it came to the skill of their makers (many of which he now owned), but never had he had such a piece already in his grasp. The name of the artist was unfamiliar though, enough so to require a little research and a harder look at the painting at a better location.

The sun was beginning to set as Miasma made his way back to his apartment, the winter scene tucked in the back seat of his car. He had carefully wrapped the rest of the paintings in the tarp and then stowed them in the part of the unit that he had been able to clear out. As he walked up the front steps to the apartment he shared with his son, Ash, he began mentally preparing himself for whatever mischief his son had been able to create. In general Ash was calm for his age, but every once in a while his son felt the need to act out, usually causing Miasma a headache that required a good hour of meditation to get over. Ash had certainly inherited Miasma's ability to plan and his knack for causing general mayhem. With a quick prayer to Heaven Miasma opened the front door; the image in front of him took him by surprise. Reva and Ash were on the dark brown love seat that was in front of the fireplace; the book settled on Reva's lap was one of Miasma's from when he was a child. The familiar book of Grimms' Fairy Tales with its well-worn cover brought a small smile to his face; that book had been his solace and hiding place many times growing up. The book was full of adventures, knights, and witches; it was one of the first things he received in his new life as an adopted kid. The story that had always been one of his favorites was Snow White and Rose Red. It was one that contained hidden motives, matches of cunning between opponents and secrets brought to light through the inquisitive minds of the main characters of the story. Just thinking of the storybook took his mind back to when him and Reva had been separated, in a new house with a new "family". The couple who had adopted him had no idea he even had a sibling, they had just tried to help a kid who needed a home. He had been inconsolable at first, but the thing that had broken the ice was the day that his adopted parents' apartment manager had shown up on their doorstep. Her dark brown hair had been pulled back into a bun; the gift in her hands had been wrapped in plain brown paper. The main thing that stood out on her had been the scars that spread over one cheek. She had kneeled in front of him and in a soft tone introduced herself as Leanna Lolen ( pronounced Loo-len she had explained patiently to him). She further explained that she lived in the small apartment complex that his adopted parents owned and worked for them there. He had then opened the package. It had been the book of Brothers' Grimm fairy tales. He remembered being surprised by the gift, why fairy tales? She had smiled and in her calm voice explained that in fairy tales there is a hint of truth, a rawness of the heart and what it longs for. That justice be served and the innocent be protected, that good triumph over evil. They tell of hurt and pain, but also of those who triumph over their demons and rise above their circumstances. During this he had stood there in silence, mesmerized by her words. That had been the first turning point at his new home.

With a blink he was pulled back to the present, to what made his life or at least his half-life worth living. Here in this room were two of the three people he held closest to his heart. The third, Leanna still managed the apartments and lived in the one next to Miasma's. With that final thought he stepped fully into the living room. He was instantly spotted by Ash who came running up to hug him, babbling about what him and Reva had done that morning. Miasma allowed Ash to pull him to the couch where Reva was just getting up.

"Any luck with the storage unit, Smoke?"

For a split second Miasma considered telling her then and there about the painting, but quickly decided against it. Better safe than sorry, better that Ash didn't know about the painting just in case his hunch did pan out and the painting was used in a heist.

" Yeah Reva, there were a few things that might be worth keeping."

The slight nod she gave was the only acknowledgement to the hidden meaning of his words; the gesture was lost on Ash who was playfully trying to pin his father's arm to the couch. Without warning Miasma turned his attention on to Ash and the five year old quickly found himself being tickled without mercy. The young boy's giggles were mixed with laughter from Reva, who was hard pressed to stay on her feet at the sight of her normally serious brother holding his son in the air tickling his sides. The smile on her brother's face warmed her heart. To see her big brother grown up with a son made her feel that maybe, just maybe, this life was worth all the pain the siblings had been through. Finally Miasma took pity on Ash and let him go, only for his son to immediately throw himself back at his father with a war cry. With the speed due in no small part to his Halfa DNA, Miasma, without turning his eyes from Reva, caught his son midflight and in the blink of an eye Ash was back where he started. Following that current turn of events Reva lost it and fell onto the couch laughing. Miasma stood calmly beside the couch, Ash wildly kicking as his father continued tickling him. A few minutes later the situation had settled down; Ash, after much convincing, had surrendered and was now settled on the couch between Miasma and Reva. Reva and Ash had had supper almost ready and currently the three were waiting for the last member and her companions to arrive. There was a knock on the door followed by the sounds of barking and yipping from outside the ground floor apartment. Ash leapt out of his seat and mere seconds later there were two balls of fluff and a kid playing in the middle of the floor. The general chaos was followed by the appearance of the only other person Miasma considered family, the apartment manager, Leanna Lolen. Her soft smile in greeting just the same as the one she had shown that lonely, angry, and so confused kid years ago. He was drawn out of his thoughts by the foreign sensation of his feet being nearly knocked out from under him. Leanna's two Keeshond dogs were in rare form tonight. Malin, her intact male, was the one that had run into his leg while her spayed female Tirion was on the floor wrestling with Ash. With a whistle from Leanna, the two dogs focused on their owner. After softly reminding Ash that rough play was to be kept outside the boy and his playmates quickly made their way to the fenced in back yard and the adults were able to sit and talk on the couch.

Miasma looked into the eyes of the woman who had been his first friend when he came to his new home. Her dark brown eyes seemed to lay your soul bare, yet hid the fierceness that led to her nickname: Kaida, Little Dragon. The jab at her less than average height was taken in good fun by her since it was from her fellow Marines, but the last part was fitting. He still remembered training in self-defense under the woman. She was a tough opponent, even with his ghostly strength. She was the part of his childhood that made him appreciate tactics over just trying to muscle his way out of every situation. Currently he was discussing his find from the storage unit with the two women. They quickly pulled up the artist's name on Miasma's laptop. Moses was the only signature for the artist, but it was quickly revealed to be a work by the famous artist Grandma Moses. She had many pieces of art accredited to her name, so many in fact that the research would have to be continued at a later time so that it could be done properly and without error. After coming to this conclusion, they called Ash in and the four of them sat down to dinner.

Later that night Miasma leaned away from his laptop with a sigh. He had done extensive research into all of Grandma Moses' paintings, ones that matched with his piece at least. He had found none matching his. There were winter scenes, but none with the two horse drawn sleds in them. All that he could do now was take a closer look at the painting itself to see if there were any other clues to its date of creation or how it came to belong to his adopted parents. As he carefully peeled away the newspaper and old blanket that he had used to wrap the painting he was once again in awe of the talent of the artist and her skill. Tearing himself out of his thoughts he gently turned the painting over and to his surprise there was a piece of paper tucked under the edges of the plain wooden frame. With a second glance he could tell that there was some type of resin holding down the two sides of the paper that were not tucked under the frame. The document itself was a receipt from a auction that outlined that the painting attached was an original Grandma Moses painting worth roughly five dollars. The title of the painting was included: Dividing of the Ways. With that useful piece of information Miasma then searched on the internet for a painting from Grandma Moses by that name, no results. A single eye brow rose at the blank page; it seemed that he would have to find answers by a different means.

A week later at a undisclosed location Miasma made his way through the mass of people who had come to the art gallery. His now blue eyes slowly passed over those who walked by, focused on finding the one he was supposed to meet. The contacts and suit he wore felt slightly foreign to him, but were worth it considering who he was meeting. George Devore was a sly one, some weren't sure if that was even his name, but he was considered one of the best forgers. Who better to verify a real painting than one who lives by making fakes? Miasma had used one of his few trusted contacts to get in touch with the man about an off the books verification for the painting, just to be sure. A few days later he had been left a message at one of his alias' PO boxes with the date and time for the meeting. So here he was, his normally tawny brown hair dyed black, blue contacts, and a nice navy suit on to meet the talented forger. His gaze slipped past a group of people only to be drawn back to the individual who was carrying a briefcase walking behind them. The man before him drew the attention of everyone in the room. He radiated confidence, from his purposeful strides through the room sending out the message that he wasn't someone to be ignored to the way his smile seemed to disarm any hostilities. In the back of his mind Miasma noted just the slightest hint of a predator's smirk in the man's face, knowing that the man before him was much more than people saw. The man before him had secrets and utilized his resources with great care all for the sake of getting what he wanted, aka a man very much like himself, one to be careful of. The man at this point had reached him; offering his hand for a handshake.

"Mr. Fumo, I presume?"

Instantly Miasma grasped the offered hand and shook it, his grip not too tight, but firm enough to convey that he meant business.

"Yes, Mr. Devore, it's a pleasure to meet you. I can't tell you how pleased I was that you were able to fit me in so soon, especially since you usually focus on more popular artists."

"Truthfully the pleasure is mine. It's been a while since someone has unearthed one of this artist's paintings. Even if this is an off the record analysis of the painting, its still a bit fascinating."

"And the money required as payment is just an added bonus?"

"You could see it as that if you wish, Mr. Fumo."

With that the two men entered one of the private evaluation rooms to the side of the main gallery. Miasma laid the paper wrapped package that contained the painting on the table and carefully unwrapped it. Devore had opened the briefcase and was setting out the various tests that were going to be done on the painting to finalize its authenticity, although with the existence of the receipt from the estate auction these tests were just a formality to clear any possibility of a surprise if Miasma did decide to use the painting in a heist.

Thirty minutes later Devore leaned away from the painting; a small smile on his face.

"Well, Mr. Fumo it seems that your painting here is the real deal. This painting not only has her written signature that matches the examples I have seen in the past, but all the tests have come back positive as to the types of materials used. It also has her singular brushstroke style that sets her apart from many artists of the era."

Miasma felt himself relax just a smidge, now that the painting was without a doubt an original work. With its authenticity verified he was now free to construct a heist around it if he felt the urge, but first he would have to get home. This train of thought took less than a second to occur and then he was standing to his feet.

"Thank you very much for the use of your valuable time, Mr. Devore. I am sure you wish to receive your payment now that you have kept up your part of the bargain."

Miasma reached into his pocket and removed the envelope of cash that had been tucked there. Devore opened it and quickly counted the bills within. With a wide grin, Devore extended his hand.

"A pleasure doing business with you Mr. Fumo. If you ever need someone with my expertise again you know how to get in contact."

Miasma accepted the handshake and said with a certain measure of sincerity:

"You can be assured of that Mr. Devore."

With that simple farewell the two men parted ways, both of them thinking of the possibilities that could come their way if they did work more with the other. Miasma made his way through the busy city streets. He had driven a fair distance to meet up with Devore and was looking forward to getting home. The ride home was not a boring one. Now that his suspicions about the painting being a original were confirmed without a doubt, he had to decide on his next course of action.

It was a few hours later when Miasma stepped through the door of his two floor apartment. The apartment was quiet since it was Saturday and Ash was currently with Leanna running errands and wouldn't be getting back for a couple hours. After putting away the disguise he had worn as Mr. Fumo he settled on the couch. He then laid the painting on the coffee table and spread out his notes around it. It was obvious that he couldn't let an opportunity like this go to waste. The main point in his favor was the fact that he had the painting already in his possession, with the receipt as well. The only problem he could see was the fact that the painting would have to be evaluated by an expert without revealing himself. He had heard of some cases similar to this in which the seller remained anonymous and all transactions were made through an auction house. If he decided to go this route then it would make the prospective "heist" go smoother. With that in mind Miasma delved deep into the intricacies of forging a heist.

It was some time later when Miasma leaned back into the couch, the notepad in front of him missing numerous sheets but the top sheet was covered with writing. He was quite satisfied with the plan he had come up with so far, simple when you knew all the facts but since his opponents wouldn't have these facts there seemed no connection between points A and C. He allowed himself a small smile at the thought of the upcoming confusion on the part of the Team. A heist that seemed to be below his notice, but pulled off in such a way as to leave no doubt as to who did it and how cunning the mastermind behind it really was. With that in mind Miasma made the first step. He picked up the phone. Five minutes later he had an appointment with his new associate Mr. Devore. Not only did he have a keen eye when it came to spotting copies, but he himself was also an excellent forger that had never been caught because his work was so good.

Devore was intrigued by Miasma's offer of one favor owed in exchange for Devore doing a forgery of the Dividing of the Ways. He was even more interested by the fact that Miasma had requested that Devore help him find a way to put an incendiary device within the painting without drawing attention to its presence. A challenge indeed, one worthy of a artist such as Devore.

Now that the first step was set in motion it was time for the second. Another phone call, this one made to a well-known auction house to have the painting officially evaluated.

A week after the second step Miasma was standing in the office of the auction house, their team of experts reading the results from the sequence of tests that would prove that the painting was an original Grandma Moses work. The painting had been handed over to them the evening before and now Miasma was waiting on the results that he already knew. With a big smile the employee who was put in charge of his case turned and began giving him the good news that the painting was indeed an original work. In addition the receipt had been found to be authentic and it lined up with the way that many of Grandma Moses' paintings had been sold at the time. After giving him the news, the employee began moving through what Miasma could tell was a well-practiced sales pitch offering to sell the painting through their company for only a small portion of the selling price. Since they had a large auction in three months, they were expecting it would draw in some names willing to pay big money for the newly discovered painting. What the man did not know was that Miasma had already known about the upcoming auction and this was partly why he had chosen this auction house. Also the fact that many higher end bidders and wealthy individuals frequented this company's auctions. After having seemingly thought about it Miasma agreed to the man's suggestion. Less than an hour later Dividing of the Ways was on the list for the auction. When the announcement was made for the auction one of the main items on the brochure was the newly discovered Grandma Moses painting. It seemed they had even made prints of the painting to spread news of its discovery, after asking his permission of course. It all fit with his plan.

The night of the auction had come. Miasma was watching from the back wall, invisible and intangible to avoid detection. He observed as the other items in the auction came and went. The turnout for the event was much larger than the normal crowd. As he waited for Dividing of the Ways to come up for auction Miasma began ticking off the requirements for the heist in his head. The duplicate of Dividing of the Ways that Devore had been hired to create was ready for use, tucked away in a carrying case held in his hand. The incendiary device had been successfully designed and implanted into the painting. The main device led to a flammable wire which he had placed into the painting after Devore had finished the painting. He had carefully analyzed the crowd that had signed up to be at the event. He had narrowed it down to three main competitors for the painting. All rich and all of them headstrong enough not to back down without a fight, which upped the amount of money he would make off of this venture. The three that had caught his eye were Marlena Ne ŝin, Fredrick Neniam, and Jeremy (Red) Haringo. The first two had an obvious rivalry and were bidding against each other at every turn. The last bidder, Haringo, was a different story, more careful, calculating, and biding his time until the moment was right. With barely a twitch of warning the quiet recluse struck.

"A hundred and seventy thousand."

The pair who were previously bidding stopped in their tracks for a second. The previous bid placed by Marlena Ne ŝin was only 145,00. Miasma watched the confusion appear on the two competitive bidders' faces, their moment of hesitation cost them their prize. The auctioneer had already called out:

"going once, going twice, sold!"

Miasma could barely hold in his mirth at the dumbfounded looks of Haringo's opponents. The way that Haringo had waited them out, let them get caught up in their little bidding war and then turned the tables on them was one of the most amusing things he had seen in a while. Which was only compounded by Haringo's tip of his Stetson and then walking out, and for the finale there was the uproar which occurred afterward. Unfortunately Miasma couldn't stay around and enjoy the ensuing carnage because he still had much to do before the plan was through. With that thought Miasma slipped through the wall, intangibly like it was a mist.

After leaving the bidding hall Miasma quickly caught up to Haringo who was busy picking up his prize. Before the artwork was handed over all pieces were inspected by experts onsite. Miasma watched as Haringo made his way to his car, the painting was then slipped into the trunk and Haringo got into the back seat. The car took off and Miasma carefully took flight. He had never done a heist from a moving vehicle, but there was a first time for everything. The case holding the duplicate clutched tightly in one hand, Miasma lowered himself toward the car. Within the blink of an eye he was inside the trunk. Other than the painting in its protective box there was nothing in it. The box had the auction house's seal placed in wax on the places where the boards met to ensure no tampering. At least that was the idea, not that the designers could have foreseen the interference of someone with ghost powers. Miasma carefully turned his hand intangible and reached into the box turning the painting within intangible as well. After removing the original work Miasma carefully placed the fake within the box, ensuring that it was in the same position as the original had been. With the third step of his plan completed Miasma carefully left the trunk, staying invisible until he was home. Now all he had to do was wait and bide his time to remove suspicion from the auction.

It wasn't boring waiting until the time when he would execute the fourth and final step of his plan. He had received the money from the auction of the painting. Most of the money had been placed into his various bank accounts while a part of it was put toward any repairs that were required for the apartment complex. He may be an criminal mastermind, but the property was still his and he always took care of what was his, whether object or person. To help distract him while he was waiting was the interesting conversation he had had with Leanna. She had remembered how Dividing of the Ways had come to be in the storage unit. It seemed that it had been his adopted parents who had bought the painting on one of their trips up north. They had brought the painting home and she hadn't seen it again until he brought it from the storage unit. Her story filled in the holes in the story of how the painting had arrived at the storage unit in the first place and Miasma's mind was finally at ease on the whole occurrence. Truthfully he had been slightly perturbed by how the painting had come to be in the possession of his adopted parents, but had filed the thought away to investigate at a later time.

It was three months after the auction when Miasma decided to put into action the final step of his plan. The sky was overcast as Miasma flew silently across the countryside, his form invisible and intangible so as to avoid detection. His eyes were focused on the towns below him. Haringo lived out in the country and was a well-known recluse. A smile crept onto his stoic features as he spotted his target, Haringo's mansion. The sprawling house was well-built, but not overly extravagant, leaving the viewer with a feeling of balance. Miasma coasted down to the fence that surrounded the property and landed lightly, making no noise. He withdrew from his bag a radio and a pair of enhanced binoculars, these particular ones were able to see heat signatures, even through walls. He quickly focused the binoculars on the portion of the mansion that he knew housed the gallery. It was made obvious by the six guards that were stationed around the area. The radio beside him on the ground was primed and ready, all he had to do was flip a switch and the final step would be complete. Now he just required a certain witness to the activation of the device. After sitting calmly for about ten minutes a single figure made its way through the row of guards and walked towards one end of the gallery. It sat down on a bench near some of the paintings and seemed to be focusing on one. Miasma waited a minute longer and then picked up the radio and with a slight smile flipped the small metal switch. With the binoculars still focused on the sitting figure he caught sight of the first spark of light that was the activation of the incendiary device. The figure startled upright and in that time the painting was already engulfed in a haze caused by the heat from the flames. Miasma watched through the binoculars as the figure ran and grabbed a fire extinguisher, putting out the flames. He watched as the guards came running at the shouting of the lone figure as they stood there transfixed, staring at the painting in front of them. Through the binoculars Miasma focused on the newest work of art in the collection belonging to Haringo, an original work created and signed by Miasma. His signature curled and flared over the painting, the lines still red through the binoculars, a true masterpiece. With those thoughts Miasma cleaned away all traces that he had been there and then turned and flew away.

Once settled at home Miasma allowed himself to think of what had happened the last few months. Ever since he had opened the storage unit he had been plagued by thoughts of his past, his existence as a Halfa, and the uncertainness of his future. Whether he made the right decision marrying Ash's mother all those years ago, why she left him and Ash, if there was anything he could have done to make her stay. The list dragged on. Finding Dividing of the Ways had left him with an interesting train of thought. Once a path has been chosen at a crossroad there is no turning back, life continues, words that are said cannot be unsaid and none can change it. With that in mind Miasma looked at the ceiling in frustration, he had to make a decision here and now. Would the regrets of the past control him or would he move on and grow from the experiences? Deep in his core he knew that his family would always come first and if he allowed the past to control his actions then he would not be able to fulfill that need to care for what was his.

A few minutes later Leanna walked into the living room and was startled to see Miasma sitting silently on the couch, his hands folded in his lap. Her face crinkled with worry, she moved to lay her hand on his shoulder. When his eyes met hers she was shocked by the conviction in them, the surety of the path he was walking. It was a sight she had not seen since his wife had left him. Ever since that day years ago she had known the only reason that he had continued was for Ash and for her as a friend. In the time since he had begun to challenge the protégées of the Justice League he had slowly lost the look of a lost man wandering through life. Now she saw in that earthen colored gaze the fire that they had held when he was younger, before the betrayal and loss. He had decided on a course of action and she knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that he would follow it to the bitter end and woe to those who tried to stop him.

 **Epilogue**

That evening as Miasma was taking Ash to his room he watched as the single most important person in his life lay contently in his arms, limp and without care knowing his father would protect him. Miasma felt his heart swell a little with the knowledge of the unconditional trust his son had in him. As he tucked Ash in, he silently swore that he would always be there for his son, no matter what. With that thought Miasma made his way to the door, sparing the new painting hanging across from Ash's bed a glance and a small smile. The horses in the picture were caught in mid-step as they dragged the sleighs behind them through the snow, passing their own point of no return.


	8. Chapter 8: A Dragon's Tale Part 1

**Hello to my readers, both those who have only recently started following this story and the lovely ones who have hung in there since the beginning. First off I don't have a set reason for this chapter taking so long, it was a combination of numerous ones that really dragged it out. Ones that unfortunately come with real life, writer's block, room shuffling at home, and then my dog of 8 years died recently, so yeah here is this chapter. I will try to have the next chapter out as soon as possible, but things are still a bit hectic at Casa de PhantomGoat. I do have a surprise for you guys though! Since the beginning of the writing of this story I have been slipping in little tidbits, whether it be meanings behind names of people or places, heck even Miasma's name! I will be putting the list of names, their meanings, and what chapter they are from on my profile.**

 **And finally some chapter prompts are taken from the Evil Overlord list with the permission of the author of the list. The Evil Overlord List is Copyright 1996-1997 by Peter Anspach. AKA, I own nothing except Miasma! All rights go to their owners, Danny Phantom belongs to Butch Hartman and Young Justice to DC. As with all fictional characters Miasma has decided to forage his own path and has come to the conclusion that he will not be defined solely by the Evil Overlord list. So from here on out if a rule was used as a prompt then I will include it, but otherwise just assume that the idea was a product of my overactive imagination! The dragon image in the chapter pic belongs to Wanees on PNGTree I just used it with permission.**

It was a normal day at Mount Justice: training with Black Canary followed by Wally flirting at the girls, Wally getting soundly thrashed by Artemis after said flirting, Robin laughing at Wally. All in all, a totally normal day. Currently the Team was all in the living room looking over all the data that they had on Miasma, what little there was of it. It was made up of mostly what he had stolen over the course of his career and the mission notes taken by every member of the Team after each confrontation. The only other item of great interest was the comprehensive list of parts/materials used by Miasma in their first ever run-in with the elusive villain at the warehouse when he had laid traps for the different members. Everything on the list had been investigated and traced as far it could, some items all the way back to the country of origin. It was quickly learned that many of the items were actually either stolen, made by well-known villains, or cobbled together. Numerous ones created by villains were discovered to have been taken from police evidence lockers and then tweaked to be more effective against the Team. The main thing they took away from that day was the knowledge that their foe was smart, resourceful, and thought outside the box.

So here at Mount Justice, present day, the Team was busy comparing the facts they had collected back then to their more recent information. They had come to a few conclusions. Firstly, Miasma seemed to steer away from physical violence if possible, preferring to use stealth to accomplish his goals. Secondly, if force was used he never actually killed anyone. Thirdly, the objects stolen did not currently show an obvious pattern for the items he would steal next. He did lean toward art or items of historical value, but even that observation did not narrow down the field of possible targets for the elusive thief. The Team collectively were considering the possibility that Miasma could be a meta. It would explain how Miasma was able to get in and out of places that were high security without being spotted. Robin made sure to emphasize to the rest of the Team that while they should heavily consider this option they should not rule out the opposite, that Miasma was totally human. In short, they needed more information.

 **Halfway across the country…**

The secretary at the desk was tired. Today the boss had been out of the office on personal business and it seemed that everything that could go wrong had. There had been an error on the most recent order for one of their biggest clients and their representative had spent a good half hour yelling at her threatening to end their contract with them. Then one of the forklifts had broken right before the arrival of their monthly large order from one of their main suppliers. By lunch time she had been ready to tear her hair out and for the safety of her coworkers (she didn't think saying they asked too many questions would be a good excuse to the arresting officer) she made a run for the office staff restroom. Then the last straw happened, the plumbing backed up while she was in there! So here she was, standing in the main office, her skirt hem sopping wet after she tried to rinse it out after the water sprayed everywhere, waiting on the repair man to arrive. At the sound of the warehouse office door beeping as it was opened, she quickly made her way to the front door. The next five minutes were a blur of her showing the repairman to the bathroom with the broken plumbing and then the supervisor of the shipping division came complaining about his life in general. After an hour of listening to the supervisor alternating between making passes at her and complaining about his lack of a social life, she was very close to tendering her resignation. Currently the thought of a few aspirin, her soft bed, and snuggling with her cat were the foremost things on her mind. Right about when she had mentally started filling out the reason for her leaving the company the repairman came back to inform her that he had been able to locate the problem and fix it on the spot. With that taken care of she showed him out the door with him politely explaining that he would send them the bill later in the mail. With that minor crisis taken care of she turned and made her way back to her desk, along the way shooing the lazy supervisor out and back into the warehouse. Now that it was just her, she allowed herself the luxury of a huge sigh. She only had 2 hours to go until she was able to head home for the weekend. With that thought, she buckled down and began the laborious process of sorting through the various applications that had come in over that week.

It was finally five minutes til five, nearly time for her to leave, when the secretary made her way into her boss' office. All that she had to do was place the packet of potential workers on his desk and then she was home free. Upon entering the office something didn't feel right, like something was missing. It took a split second before it hit her, the paperweight. For years her boss had owned a jade dragon paperweight, which he claimed had been given to his family some time during the 1700's. He always left it on the right corner of his large leather desk blotter so that he could reach it if he needed it to help sort documents on his desk. The usual spot where he kept the paperweight was occupied by a slip of paper that was being held in place by a fist sized stone. The stone was completely smooth, its surface a soft gray color with lighter gray swirls. She picked up the stone and turned it over in her hands, stopping when she felt a change in the texture. Upon closer inspection she could see a slight indentation in the stone, a fuzzy looking letter M. With that discovery she hurriedly picked up the phone and called the police. Once she explained the situation they told her that a squad car was on its way and too let no one leave the building. Once she hung up the phone and made her way quickly down the hall toward the warehouse floor, the facts churning in her head. Everyone had read the articles about the heist that had occurred at the British Museum in broad daylight. The mastermind behind it was still on the loose. All that he, or she for that matter, had left behind was a folded note with a misty looking letter M on the outside and a challenge to the team of heroes that was rumored to be handling his case. Since the heist at the Museum, there had been much talk about who this Miasma was and what his goals were. At the time the secretary had thought that it would be interesting to see the scene of one his crimes in person. Now she regretted ever wishing that. With the help of the second shift floor manager she was able to keep the remaining workers in the building until the police arrived.

It was 8 p.m. before the police let her go home. They had grilled her relentlessly about anyone who had come on to the premises, and who among the workers might have stolen the jade dragon paperweight. Once she had mentioned the presence of the repairman the detective who was temporarily in charge of the investigation had jumped on the information like a dog with a steak. After the police had taken her statement they had requested any video footage, at which point she had been forced to admit that the only cameras they had were around the main work areas with only one near the main office. The officers at the scene had been unable to pull any decent shots of the repairman and the van that the repair man had driven, much to their dismay. After what seemed like forever, the officers were joined by Kid Flash who had come to take over the crime scene officially. It seemed that the protégés of the Justice League were handling the Miasma case. At that point the poor harried secretary was finally told that she could go home, leaving the night guard for the warehouse behind if the protégés needed something. It was with weary steps that the exhausted secretary walked to the door of her apartment and unlocked the door. Her cat was immediately winding its way around her legs, purring so much that it would put a motorcycle to shame. It was 30 minutes later that she was laying on the couch, her earlier wish now coming true. A soft fuzzy blanket wrapped tightly around her; her cat, Paco, curled up in her lap content now that he had been fed. With a hum she settled deeper into the dark emerald couch, the stress of the day slowly ebbing out of her muscles as she watched the show on the TV.


End file.
